Father Be Thy Name
by LVB
Summary: AU. As soon as life seems peaceful for Anakin Skywalker, the Force has another idea altogether. Can he get to the bottom of the mystery? Sequel to Skywalker Matrimony and Part 4 of the Fathers and Smugglers series.
1. Master of All Things

**Father Be Thy Name**

_Or _

**What To Expect…..**

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**

**Author: **LVB

**Summary: **As soon as life seems peaceful for Anakin Skywalker, the Force has another idea altogether. AU. Sequel to Skywalker Matrimony and Part 4 of the Fathers and Smugglers series.

**Disclaimer: **George Lucas, Lucasfilm. End of story.

**A/N: **Err, um. Hi? A long, long, time ago, on a profile in a fandom far, far away existed a little story called Meet the Skywalkers. Now, the author has returned injected with a fresh dose of sarcastic humour. Please, hold the applause. Oh yes she's back!! I thank Channel 7 for airing the namesake to one of the previous stories in the series, Father of the Bride, for kicking me back into gear. Acknowledgements to be made at a later time...wouldn't want to ruin things for you!

**Warnings:** A bit of naughty language here; both English and Basic (i.e. Starwarsian)

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**Chapter One: Master of All Things**

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Anakin Skywalker, Jedi extraordinaire grimaced as for the third time in a standard hour, his padawan had jabbed him unceremoniously in the knee with her lightsaber. He turned his head so the cause of his problems, one Mara Jade, could not see the look of defeat on his face.

_A Jedi knows not defeat nor old age. _

Anakin Skywalker feared he would become the expert if he kept training with the beast.

"I think that is enough training for today Mara," Anakin said sternly, mimicking the look he had received from Obi-Wan on too many occasions to count. Now HE was the Master, HE made the rules and there was no way HE was going to let his padawan win. Ever.

"Getting tired Skywalker?" Mara shot back, putting her lightsaber back on its hilt and slightly cocking her eyebrow. This Skywalker business may have worked on his son but it would not work on him. The Beast would not win. He had trouble enough winning against his own wife let alone winning against a pesky little _girl_.

"Padawans should not attempt to get smart to their Masters, Young One," Anakin replied as diplomatically as possible. He ignored the urge to use the Force to somehow cause irreparable damage to Mara's vocal chords. He suspected it would finally earn whoever was closest to their bedroom some peace and quiet. Anakin feared his nightmares would never end. There was only so many times a father could hear a woman agree very LOUDLY with his only son and not want to Force-combust his own ears.

Just as Mara was about to snidely reply, Anakin's commlink went off.

Saved by the Force.

"Master Skywalker," Anakin said as professionally as Jedi-ly possible. He was greeted with a mocking laugh; a laugh that was evil, sadistic and would haunt him until old age beat him down with the fat and ugly stick.

_I really need to get a commlink screener installed. _

"You owe me credits old man."

Han. Solo.

The only thing that could have made this moment worse was if Mara Jade, the in-law discipline were to get involved.

And by the Force, that was exactly what she did.

"Don't you have some poor penniless spice addict to scheme some money out of Solo?" she snapped, using her "only to be used in relation to the Force and who are we kidding here?" Jedi skills to access the commlink.

Anakin liked to think her attitude and fast responses to, well, irritating situations was due to his training. Or that she was just a pain in his...

"Ass!" Mara added for good measure.

Anakin couldn't help be just a little proud.

Only a little.

"Give me that," he snapped, manually retrieving his commlink from his unruly padawan. "I thought we had decided it was double or nothing," Anakin mumbled.

_Again with the laugh. Evil, evil thing. _

"Do you think a guy like me has time to organise another Sabacc game with the likes of you Paps? Important people such as me have better things to do..."

_If the next words out of his mouth are "like your sweet, innocent and not at all sexually active, daughter Leia," lightsabers will be a-flyin'. _

"...like working on the Falcon before tonight's fabulous dress-up-to-impress-the-monkey-looking-natives-of-Kemblonia-at-the-grand-Skywalker-retirement-function-do."

Kriffing kriff with a side order of steaming hot kriff.

The gala.

The Chancellor herself, the great Padmé Skywalker, Jedi lover and resident calm to Anakin's crazy, was retiring. And the retirement gala with representatives from just about every planet ever to exist in the universe ever was tonight.

As in, the gala that was going to happen in about one hour's time.

The gala where he has promised his darling wife he would, firstly be on his best behaviour and secondly, be there on time.

Anakin Skywalker had just made a liar out of himself.

"Wait a second Paps, if you're with the redhead then you're not..."

_A Coruscant Nobel for the smart man. _

"No, not ready," Anakin replied evenly, trying to ignore the panic flooding his super Jedi senses.

Siths, gundarks and drunk and disorderly citizens he could handle. Being late to the most important night (well maybe not counting their wedding night...) of his wife's life was inconceivable. For the first time in a long time, the Jedi Master felt fear.

Not the kind of fear that Yoda spoke of...not the all-consuming, path-to-the-darkside, destroy all of humanity type of fear. No, this fear was much, much worse. This fear was an eternity sleeping on the couch and drinking into the wee hours of the morning with Obi-Wan and Threepio type of fear.

_Unacceptable. _

"Well Daddy dearest, I suppose you'd better get your ass into gear and..."

Anakin cut him off abruptly and spun around to find his redheaded padawan gone. Mara, being the complete opposite of every woman in the Republic took only moments to get ready so he would bet his last credit, the ones that weren't owed to the scoundrel that she would make it there before he did.

Besides, she was just the girlfriend. Luke would play the dutiful son and be at the gala to support his mother and simply wait for Mara there.

Anakin however had no such luxury.

Grabbing Stevie off the floor and adding him to his stylish Jedi utility belt, Anakin ran as fast as Jedi-ly possibly.

If it took every last ounce of his ability to use the Force, Anakin would be there on time.

_Or so help me Force. _


	2. We are FAMILY!

Please see chapter one for disclaimer:

**A/N:** *waves nervously*. For anyone that is even still following this story, HELLO! So it's been nearly two years (eek!) since I uploaded the first chapter of this story. I thank anyone who is even reading for their patience. I don't have any excuses to give you, except that I was so lost with this story and definitely lost my mojo. I think I may have found it again, due to the fact that I actually think I'm funny again. Feel free to disagree. Enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter Two: We are FAMILY!**

Anakin Skywalker may have superior Jedi reflexes (also, intellect and smashing good looks, if he was being quite honest) but it seemed that his 'mad Jedi skillz' as the Younglings had branded them, were failing him this evening. After performing a mad dash from the Temple and leaving a laughing padawan, things had turned from bad to worse.

His speeder, which was precariously docked at the hanger, wouldn't start. Anakin re-inserted his speeder key: nothing. Looking around to see if he was being watched, Anakin concentrated on using the Force to subtly assess the mechanics.

_A Jedi should never use the Force for personal gain or fickle reasons._

Whatever, Jedi Code.

_The Jedi Code knows all, Anakin. _

_Not enough to fix this kriffing speeder, obviously_, he argued internally. Along with his Jedi 'improvements', Anakin remembered one other very crucial thing. He was good at fixing things.

Really good.

It wasn't his ability he was doubting; (did he ever?) it was his speed. Groaning, he threw his black cloak to the ground. He had spent so much of his early life fixing things; surely he could get a simple speeder to work? He had created Threepio, after all. A mistake he was surely paying for until this very day.

As he raised the speeder using the Force and crawled underneath it, his commlink began beeping again. Swearing briefly, Anakin manoeuvred the commlink closer to his face. "Master Sky..."

"DAD!" Luke's loud voice roared through the commlink.

_That boy's whining is much easier in monotone_, he thought.

"Yes, son?" Anakin asked innocently, as his free hand began to unscrew a cap under the speeder.

"Where the Sith are you?"

Anakin frowned. "No need for such crass language, son," he protested as the cap fell off, straight onto his perfect Jedi head. "I have no idea where you learned such disgusting language and disrespect," he added. Solo, he presumed. Not from Anakin or Obi-Wan. Not at all.

"Well, my mother is in an absolute panic because, _somebody_," Luke emphasised, "was _supposed_ to go and pick up her parents from their transport ship!"

_Somebody_? Didn't Padme ask him to...

Oh no.

Kriffing kriff. Son of a Sith.

In his panic, Anakin bumped his head on the belly of the speeder.

"I completely forgot!" Anakin said, the panic beginning to creep into his voice. "Can't you go and pick up your grandparents?" he asked, desperately.

Anakin swore he could hear Luke smirking through the commlink. Now that attitude, Anakin was _positive_ he had picked up from him.

"Sorry, Dad, Leia has me on duty. I barely had enough time to make this call. I'm thinking you need to drop whatever you're doing and go pick them up and bring them to the reception hall. The gala starts in two hours and I really think you should make it your business to _not be late_. I'll see you soon, Dad!"

With that, Luke cut the transmission. Anakin pulled himself from underneath the speeder and checked his chrono. Two hours was plenty of time to find a transport, pick up his in-laws, take them to the reception hall, avoid his wife, go home and get changed and be the stunning playboy hanging off the arm of his beautiful wife on time. Right?

Anakin looked at the speeder which was not going to be fixed any time soon. In his frustration, he kicked it. He briefly wondered if it would be faster to catch, _ugh_, public transport, to their home and pick up the ship. That would never work. He suddenly entertained the notion that perhaps life would be easier if Jedi were able to fly. He was the Chosen One, after all. If any Jedi could do it, of course it would be him.

He shook his head, erasing the small moment of stupidity. He sighed, resigning himself to his fate.

_A Jedi never surrenders. _

He took out his commlink and braced himself.

"Solo," answered a cocky and confident voice on the other end.

* * *

"Oh, thank you so much, Han!" gushed Jobal Naberrie as Han escorted her onto the _Millennium Falcon_. Anakin fought the urge to roll his eyes, as he struggled to carry the elderly woman's luggage onto the ship.

"Oh, it's not a problem, Mrs. Naberrie! Anything for such a wonderful young lady, like yourself!" he charmed.

Anakin thought he was going to be sick.

"Nice ship you have here, Han," Ruwee Naberrie said, slapping Han on his back in a macho gesture. "Looks like you've done lots of custom work on her. I bet she flies like a beast!"

"Yes, sir, I'm very proud of her!" he replied, shaking his wife's grandfather's hand.

"And what happened to _your_ ship, Anakin?" Ruwee asked pointedly.

It had always been like this, Anakin mused. Apparently ruffian scoundrels were good enough for Ruwee Naberrie's precious granddaughter but an accomplished and attractive Jedi Master was, and never had been, good enough for his youngest daughter.

Anakin sighed, thinking about the brand new ship that was docked at his home right now, the _Fury_.

"His bucket of bolts is still at home, Sir. The _Falcon_'s a lot faster than the _Fury_ anyway. We'll have you at the reception gala in no time at all."

Anakin wondered where all this false politeness was at their first meeting. Han had done absolutely nothing to win the affections of his future father-in-law but scrambled for the attention of Leia's grandparents. They didn't even live on Coruscant, for Stars' sake! Maybe if he had taken the time to at least pretend to be polite, Anakin might have actually liked him.

_Unlikely. _

"I thought Sola and Darred were coming?" Anakin asked as he began levitating the bags, much to his father-in-law's disapproval.

"No such luck, I'm afraid. Sola's been ill, so Darred has been looking after to her. Such a fine young man he is, Anakin."

Anakin could have sworn he saw Han snort. Enjoying watching Anakin squirm in front of his own father-in-law, was he?

An old not-so-Jedi saying came to mind: _Revenge in a dish best served cold. _

"So Han, my dear, tell me, have you and Leia started thinking about having children?" Jobal asked, taking her seat.

Anakin began to cough uncontrollably. "What? Children? Don't you think they're a bit too young?"

Amazingly, Han didn't flinch or even bat an eyelid.

"Nonsense, Anakin. You were a lot younger when you decided to become a father," Ruwee pointed out. "And you weren't even public with your marriage then!"

"Children are so wonderful, my boy. You and Leia will make such great parents. And you will have Anakin and Padme so close in Coruscant to help you out along the way!"

"I think it may be a little premature to be thinking of children right now, Mrs. Naberrie. I'm sure when the time comes, Anakin will make such a great Grandpaps," he sniggered, Jobal oblivious to his taunt.

"Now, let's get you to the gala before Mrs. Skywalker sends Threepio on a search and rescue mission!"

Anakin took his place at the back of the ship as Ruwee and Jobal began to politely chatter.

He looked at his chrono.

_I have a bad feeling about this. _


	3. Facing the Beast

_Please see first chapter for disclaimer_

**A/N:** Not completely happy with this chapter but that's what Anakin made me write. He has a way with words, evidently. We'll be getting to the good stuff soon, I promise, I just need to keep it going. If it makes you giggle or groan, drop me a line :)

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**Chapter Three: Facing the Beast**

Luke was waiting at the reception hall to meet his grandparents, his dashing Skywalker smile in place. Han escorted the Naberries off the _Falcon_. Due to the fact that the reception would be starting sooner than Anakin would have liked, the Naberries had opted to get changed on the ship, along with Han.

"Oh Luke, look how much you have grown!" gushed Jobal as she hugged her only grandson. "You look exactly like your father!" Anakin smirked and Luke tried to keep a straight face.

"Thank you Grandmother. It is wonderful to see you both again. Mother will be so happy you came," Luke replied, diplomatically. Anakin was sure that skill had come from Padmé. He may have been a Jedi but he happened to be one of those smart-mouthed lightsaber loving Jedi Masters. Not so different from Obi-Wan.

Luke shot Anakin a glare. _How are you still not ready?_

_Han refused to take me back to get changed. _

_You're both idiots. _

Why did people keep speaking to him like this?

"Oh Luke, don't forget to introduce your grandparents to Mara, won't you?" Anakin said, the sweetest smile appearing on his perfect Jedi face.

Luke didn't dare reply either verbally or internally.

"Well, Paps, my Princess awaits," Han said, fixing his bow tie. "I'll see you on the inside!" he added happily and followed Luke and the Naberries inside.

Anakin took a moment to assess the situation. He was still in his training outfit, he had neither transport nor time to go back home and change; but at least he was at the right spot.

_A Jedi should face any challenge with confidence, skill and patience_.

Kriff that advice.

A Jedi Master should also not be attending high-end events wearing particularly creased and sweat-drenched clothing.

"Anakin!" a familiar voice called. "You're finally here. What _are_ you wearing?"

Just what Anakin needed right now: fashion advice from Obi-Wan Kenobi. He raised an eyebrow in response, fearing any other reaction may just send him into one of those Jedi-forbidden rage cycles that were so frequent when one had twin children.

"And I suppose you are on the Coruscant Best Dressed list this season, Master?" he retorted, wiping some sweat off his forehead. Pollution made for fun times on the City Planet.

"If you had bothered to watch the Holo, Anakin, the Jedi Master style is quite in this season," Obi-Wan replied dryly. "It would work for you too, my young friend, if you had bothered to change into some _clean_ clothes."

_She's getting pretty angry, Dad_, Luke's voice spoke in his head.

Couldn't anybody give him a moment's peace?

"Ah, young Luke just told me to tell you Anakin, not to ignore him and that the bar is open. I'll be taking my leave now. I wouldn't be staying out here much longer if I were you. I may have never been married but I'm quite sure Padmé will be feeding your limbs to a Rancor should you waste any more of her precious time," Obi-Wan said, trying his hardest not to laugh at his former padawan's misfortune.

As Obi-Wan walked into the reception hall, Anakin felt a tiny, small tremor in the Force. Frowning, Anakin closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to assess the small yet distinct ripple. Just as he thought he had found it, it suddenly went away. Anakin frowned and tried again to no avail.

_Age presents no problem to a Jedi—an aging man means a wise and capable Jedi Master whose abilities in the Force will improve over time rather than fade away._

So how was it that the most famous and attractive Jedi in all of history was having issues detecting ripples in the Force? He was the Chosen One—tiny Force tremors didn't just run away from him screaming did they? Apparently so.

Resigning himself to a huge fight with his darling wife, he sighed and began walking up the steps. Anakin felt a flash of panic and hysteria through the Force and this time, the source was more than obvious.

Holoreporters.

Anakin heard them mere seconds after he had felt them and saw them only moments after that.

Anakin didn't know why his superior Jedi reflexes weren't kicking in. Perhaps it was his current line of thought about his inevitable aging, the fact that a severe verbal lashing awaited him inside the reception hall or even that the evening would be filled with boring diplomats trying to discreetly perve on his wife and daughter and Anakin nearly chopping their heads off.

Whatever it was, the Chosen One, Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker was frozen to the spot in his smelly, crinkled Jedi training robes and his training boots with the rip down the side.

"Master Skywalker, has the former Chancellor arrived yet?"

"Master Skywalker, does Yoda intend on being at the event?"

"Master Skywalker, who designed your wife's gown for the evening?"

"Master Skywalker, what do you say to claims that your son has joined a polygamous cult on the Hasati IV?"

"Er, I..." Anakin replied, wondering what kind of idiot would actually believe such a stupid story.

"Master Skywalker, can you comment on claims that your wife is only retiring on your orders?"

Once again, Anakin wondered what kind of idiot thought that Anakin had _any_ control over the soon-to-be former Chancellor of the Republic. Did they even bother checking their facts?

"Master Skywalker, you were recently voted Coruscant Women's' Annual 'Hottest Man of the Year'"...

So maybe some of them had their facts straight after all.

"Do you feel such a title should belong to a Jedi of your age or do you agree with the popular view that perhaps your son Luke or son-in-law Han Solo would have been a more appropriate choice?"

"Now listen here..."

"Master Skywalker, is it true that you were spotted at skin rejuvenation clinic 'Age Be-Gone' last week?"

Anakin was thankful none of these Holoreporters were Force-adept—that one had actually been true.

"No," he said confidently. "Now if you'll excuse me, my wife is expecting me!"

"Excuse me, Master Skywalker, you aren't going to be attending the gala wearing _that_, are you?" A fat man wielding a Holocamera asked, quickly shoving the camera in front of Anakin's face, capturing the horrid moment.

Anakin turned around, attempting to control his Skywalker temper.

_A Jedi will conduct himself in the public eye with grace, ease and above all, respect. _

As thousands of other Holocameras snapped happily around him, Anakin indulged in himself and promptly extended his arm.

"Er, Master Skywalker, what are you doing?" the fat man stammered.

Anakin only flashed his wonderful Jedi smile in response and using the Force, crushed the man's camera. Throwing the crushed camera into the howling crowd of Rancors, Anakin quickly ran up the remainder of the stairs and slammed the doors shut behind him.

He took a deep sigh of relief but as soon as he took a moment to revel in the silence, he froze. Fearfully, he took in the sight before him.

Padmé.

"Angel, let me explain..." he began, trying not to trip over either his wonderful Jedi legs or his words.

_A Jedi's robes should always be treated with the utmost respect. Clothing represents neither status nor power but that a Jedi is there to serve the greater needs of the Republic. It is for this very reason a Jedi should launder their robes at any possible opportunity and never forget to brush their hair_.

"Anakin," Padmé started, quickly moving back as Anakin tried to hug her. "What _are _you wearing?"


	4. The Most Exciting Revelation of the Cent

_Please see first chapter for disclaimer_

**A/N: **A very big thank you to my beta, the lovely Lacey, who still finds time, after all these years to help a friend out :)

**Chapter Four: The Most Exciting Revelation of the Century...**

"I told you, I'm sorry," whispered Anakin, as Padmé dragged him to entrance to the great hall.

"This is my retirement dinner, Anakin! You couldn't even see fit to dress yourself properly!"

Anakin would have hung his head in shame but he figured it wouldn't help his situation. "I didn't mean to, I promise. Besides, you always say I look much more dashing with my clothes off," he said cheekily, hoping his smile would help melt Padmé's awful mood.

Padmé turned to him and raised her eyebrow. "You'd better hope I feel inclined you let you come home with me tonight, Anakin. Otherwise you'll be bunking over at the Solo residence."

_I'd rather bunk with Count Dooku's corpse at Mustafar with a gundark._

"That won't be necessary, my darling wife. I'll be on my best behaviour."

Padmé sighed and clutched Anakin's arm. The doors then opened and they were welcomed into the beautifully decorated ball room with thunderous applause. Holocameras were going off and politicians, family and Jedi alike filled up the room with warmth and noise. He took the opportunity to wave to the masses and ignored the obvious chatter and Holocameras zooming in on his ripped boot.

Padmé finally freed his arm and took to the podium at the front of the hall. As she began her very uninteresting speech, Anakin used his Jedi stealth to expertly shuffle his way through the crowd to the bar, joining Obi-Wan.

_A Jedi shall not consume either drugs or alcohol. Especially at large events. Unless you're Obi-Wan. _

"I see you made it in with your other arm still attached to your body," Obi-Wan said by way of greeting as he swirled his Alderaani wine. Anakin groaned in response. "Corellian Ale," he said to the bartender as he struggled to keep up with Padmé's speech: it had a lot of long words. "Better make it a double."

Anakin downed the drink with his expert Jedi senses and ordered another as he saw his children making their way to undoubtedly annoy him. He groaned in response. Obi-Wan raised his wine glass in greeting.

"What do you want?" Anakin bluntly asked. Luke grinned in response but Leia, in a typically _Naberrie_ fashion, simply glared.

"Have you gone completely mad?" she snapped, gesturing to his outfit and his delicious glass of Corellian Ale.

Anakin shrugged in response and downed the rest of the drink, enjoying watching his politician daughter squirm while waiting for his answer.

"Well?"

Obi-Wan hiccupped.

"That's no way to speak to your father," Anakin said pointedly, banging on the bar to order another drink. "I am the Chosen One you know," he said, puffing out his chest to seemingly illustrate the point.

"You're getting drunk at your wife's retirement dinner, dressed like a sweaty barman from Mos Espa! Have you no shame?"

Evidently not.

"It's not like you're listening either, Senator Solo."

Suddenly struck by the horrid idea, Leia quickly whipped around and concentrated on her mother at the podium, who seemed to be glaring at the group of them at the back. Luke wedged himself between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

"Have you seen Mara?" Luke whispered.

"It's not really my responsibility if you lost your girlfriend. _She_ is the one who made me late with her stupid sparring," Anakin replied. "Still beat me here too," he muttered under his breath.

_To a Jedi, honour is everything. Taking a padawan under one's tutelage is considered the most honourable act a Jedi Master can perform. However, sticking one's leg out to constantly attempt to trip over one's padawan in order to 'test their reflexes' after a Jedi Master has lost a sparring match would definitely be considered rather dishonourable. _

Obi-Wan hiccupped again, earning him a slap on the back from Luke. Anakin stared at his wrist-chrono and back again at his wife. Thankfully, her big words gave way to shorter ones and within minutes, loud applause filled the hall. Anakin joined the applauding masses and plastered a huge smile on his face as Padmé moved through the crowd to him.

"That was the most beautifully crafted speech I've ever heard," he said, taking her hand and gently kissing it. Luke and Leia stared in horror. Obi-Wan hiccupped.

Padmé sharply withdrew her hand. "As if you were listening!"

Anakin felt himself blush red.

"It was a wonderful speech," Luke said, kissing her on the cheek. Leia followed suit.

"Congratulations!"

Padmé smiled in response. "Thank you, my darlings. Leia, could I trouble you to assist me in the fresher? I won't miss these ridiculous outfits, I can tell you that much."

Anakin was briefly assaulted with images of years of being the one to remove those ridiculous outfits. There was no Sithing way he was going to be bunking at the Solo residence tonight.

It was late when Anakin finally stumbled through the door. In one hand he held Padmé's heels and supported her with the other. Threepio greeted them at the door.

"Oh Master Anakin, is everything alright?" the droid asked, indicating Padmé's hobbling form.

"Go away," she moaned.

Anakin felt a moment of pride as a scandalized look appeared on his creation's metal eyes. He was a fine craftsman to have created something so life-like and so annoying.

"My word!"

Anakin dropped Padmé's death heels into Threepio's waiting hands.

"Burn them," he commanded.

"But Master Anakin, these are made by Twi'lek Dreams, they're rather expensive,"

"Since when do you have shoe factory settings programmed into you?" he snapped, helping his wife lie on the couch.

"I'm a protocol droid, Master Anakin. I am fluent in six million forms of communication..."

"Shut up!"

"...and shoe factory settings is one of them. Also, Master Anakin, _you_ programmed me to tune in to the Coruscant Holo Fashion Daily..."

Instead of waiting for Threepio to finish, he grasped his beloved lightsaber and smoothly decimated the death heels.

"The Maker!" screeched Threepio, dropping the remains on the floor. "You nearly dismembered my hands!"

"Make him shut up," moaned Padmé from the couch. Obligingly, Anakin powered down a panicking Threepio.

"Angel, come to bed," he whispered into her ear, brushing her thick hair away from her face. "I can help you out of your final Chancellor outfit..."

He was greeted with a very unladylike snore.

He frowned, thinking back to his very idiotic son-in-law handing glass after glass of Alderaani wine to his wife.

He would be considering payback come morning. Gently picking up his wife, Anakin silently made his way to their bed. He placed her on her side of the bed and fought a laugh when she snored again, slapped his hand and rolled over.

As he pulled on his favourite sleep pants, (Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master Elite _did not_ sleep with a shirt on either), he faintly heard a beeping from their office. Unwilling to move from his comfortable and warm bedroom, he focused on the Force, trying to work out what was beckoning him.

Unable to concentrate, he made his way to the office. A Holo-message was waiting.

"_Diagnosis Confirmed. Please activate your medical droid with the code Alpha-Seven-Beta-Zappa-Four_," came the automated message.

Medical droid?

Luckily for Anakin, he mostly had his injuries treated at the Temple and usually had no need for their personal medical droid. He powered up B52-Delta.

"Remote Diagnosis Results Received," the droid told him. "Please key in your access code."

Anakin keyed in the code, wondering who would bother sending their private health records to a dusty, outdated medical droid who lived in the office of a retired Senator and a Supremely Sexy Jedi Master.

"Thank you. Patient 0-4-22-8-7-90-7-62-1. Pregnancy Test Results: Positive. Congratulations."

_Kriff. _


	5. Sithspit

**A/N:** *cue broken record* RL has been rather hectic, many apologies! I hope this answers at least one of your questions. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and enjoyed the cliffhanger last chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Sithspit**

Anakin's mind began to race. Seeing as he was a Jedi, and his skills were comparable to no other, his mind was racing fast. He hurriedly programmed in another code.

"Request: Patient Name and location of original query," commanded Anakin.

"Unknown Error," replied the droid.

"I beg your pardon?" Anakin asked before realising he was conversing with an obsolete medical droid.

"Unknown Error. Please consult sender of Remote Diagnosis," the droid repeated.

The droid was certainly calm in its detached manner, but Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, was anything but.

_Remember, Anakin_, Obi-Wan's voice filled his head, _a Jedi does not panic in the direst of circumstances. Always remain calm and rational, even if a raging bantha is about to trample your head. When in doubt, always be one with the Force. Or, and don't you tell Master Yoda this, but taking a shot of Velodian Spirits is always an acceptable alternative. _

He could sure use a shot of Velodian Spirits right now. Several thoughts ran through his head, competing for his ever-dwindling attention. He started with the most pressing; _who is pregnant_, followed by _is this a joke_, _someone is going to be run through with a lightsaber_ and finally, _am I too old to be a father_..._again_?

Anakin lingered on the last thought, thinking back to a time where he and Padmé had been young, strong, willing and able to care for crying, screaming babies. Anakin felt the Force go through him as he considered the fact that his beautiful, still-of-childbearing-age wife had just retired, seemingly for no good reason at all.

_To spend my days with you, dear husband. _

Yeah. Right.

Anakin then thought about his children, them growing up and getting married. He then thought of having to bathe and clean another Force-adept child, who would be able to levitate the soap out of the bath, onto the floor, allowing normally focused Jedi Masters to slip and fall. He then thought of his possibly pregnant wife, who was currently sleeping off a drunken stupor.

He then thought of murdering Han Solo.

_Sithspit. _

Suddenly, Anakin Skywalker was very tired. He sighed and took one last look at the blasted droid who has effectively ruined his evening and possibly his life.

"I hate you," he snapped.

"Congratulations," the droid offered.

o0o

Even though Anakin felt exhausted beyond belief, he was still unable to sleep. Normally calm and reserved in the public sphere, Padmé tossed and turned and snored in bed, causing mild irritation in Anakin before finally, he shook her awake at the sign of first light.

"Padmé?

Not even Anakin's Jedi reflexes caught the hand that shot out to slap him from the bundle of blankets.

"Calm down," he grumbled. Anakin attempted to concentrate on her as he poked her a few more times. He, admittedly, hadn't noticed when she had been pregnant with Luke and Leia but he had been young and inexperienced in the way of the Force. As he heard another grumble from his quite obviously hungover wife, he finally decided that if it were Padmé who was pregnant, either his child was even more 'Chosen' that he was or Padmé herself had suddenly grown a few more thousand midichlorians.

Both scenarios were unlikely.

"Anakin?" Padmé croaked. "What time is it?"

Anakin shot a look at the chrono and gulped in fear.

"05:00," he answered slowly, pre-emptively dodging out of Padmé's grasp.

"And you felt it necessary to wake me at this hour?" she snapped, sitting up.

"Well seeing as you're up, we need to talk," he said brightly, handing her a cup of blue milk, which he had conveniently left there the night before.

"I feel awful," Padmé groaned, taking a long drink out of the cup.

Anakin tried not to laugh as his beautiful wife, with smudged makeup, wild ringlets and a crumpled 3,000 credit dress failed to wipe away a blue milk moustache.

"You look beautiful," he replied, mustering as much sincerity as he could.

Jedi Masters rarely married and Anakin felt pride knowing that his knowledge of women was unsurpassed...in the Jedi world, at least.

"Hmm," she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. "There was something you wanted to talk to me about?"

_Your incessant snoring?_

Anakin pushed all cruel thoughts away and unfortunately, concentrated on the dilemma at hand.

"Last night, I heard beeping and when I went to investigate...it was the medical droid in the office."

Padmé's eyes widened. Anakin tried to focus on her eyes, searching for an answer.

_Ignore the blue milk moustache. _

"Someone had sent their results..."

"And?" she asked, anxiously.

"Padmé, are you pregnant?" Anakin blurted out, immediately regretting it as Padmé's face began to turn that shade of pink usually reserved for marital screaming matches.

"Pregnant?" she asked, finally wiping away the blue milk moustache. "Are you trying to ask me if I'm pregnant, Anakin?"

He nodded, suddenly fearing for his masculinity and wondering whether Jedi Masters were still powerful after being castrated.

"Are you trying to say I look fat?" Padmé asked, her eyes ablaze.

Anakin Skywalker, gift to women the galaxy over, hesitated.

"ANAKIN!" she screeched, jumping out of bed.

"Angel, please, I was just..."

"Just what, Anakin? To answer your question, no I'm not pregnant and I'm insulted you would think so, especially after I drank myself into a stupor last night!"

_Not a pregnancy but a Nubian beer belly?_

Despite the threat of imminent castration, Anakin let out a sigh of relief. "So you're not pregnant."

Padmé shook her head. "No, I'm not."

Anakin sat on the edge of the bed, his artificial hand flexing. His face fell. "So if you're not pregnant, then who is?"

Leia's face flashed before him along with the smirking, taunting face of his son-in-law.

Padmé broke out into a grin. "Leia!"

_No no no no no. _

"Kriffing hell," Anakin swore and every object in their room began to shake.

"Oh no, Anakin, stop..."

Padmé moved out of the way as a Nubian vase went flying across the room.

"Get dressed," Anakin said, standing and flexing his artificial hand again. "We're going for a visit."


	6. A Happy Mistake

_Please see first chapter for disclaimer and other information_

**A/N: **I hope this sheds some light on the whole mystery. Enjoy :)**  
**

**Chapter Six: A Happy Mistake**

For the umpteenth time during what was normally a relatively short journey, Padmé sighed dramatically.

"This is good news, Anakin!" she enthused, gently placing a hand on his leg as he tried to navigate their speeder through the busy Coruscant traffic.

He scowled in a very un-Jedi like manner, ignoring his wife's normally reassuring touch.

"How can you be so calm?" he demanded, feeling slighted that Padmé wasn't equally as furious as he was.

In his eyes Leia was still his baby and he hadn't liked it when she had become a Senator and switched families, he hadn't liked it when she married that absolute scoundrel and he certainly didn't like it when he finally figured out that she, _his baby girl_, was going to be having a baby.

He was sure all his negative energy was upsetting the balance of the Force but he figured as the proclaimed Chosen One, he was entitled to a little Force-tantrum.

The last time he had one, he had accidentally caused a Force-avalanche. Ignoring this fact, he turned his attention back to Padmé.

"Well?" he prompted, blaring his horn at another speeder.

"We're going to be grandparents, Ani," Padmé tried to reason. "How can you not be excited? Especially since you're the reason anybody who is Force-adept can even start a family."

Padmé had a point but as usual, Anakin refused to concede.

"That's not the point," he responded, sourly.

"You can be really selfish at times Anakin Fergus Skywalker!" Padmé snapped, picking up the in-built comm.

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked, alarmed.

"Letting them know we're almost there," Padmé said, sounding clearly exasperated.

Anakin shook his head vehemently and scowled again as he nearly clipped the speeder next to him.

"No," he said. "What we need is the element of surprise."

o0o

As Anakin finally docked his speeder, he took a deep breath. He consciously grasped his lightsaber and glared at the entrance to the Solo residence.

"We're here!" Padmé beamed as she exited the speeder, trying not to ruin her dress. While Anakin loved Padmé more than life itself, he felt the need to turn down her enthusiasm.

"You're going to give it away," he complained as he joined her at the front of the apartment as he reached out through the Force, easily finding his daughter. "She knows we're here, so please Padmé, don't rush in all excited."

Padmé simply glared at him, having put up with his erratic Jedi behaviour for over thirty years.

Anakin heard Leia on the other side of the door and tried to hide his sour expression.

_The first Jedi father and grandfather in the history of the Order. The Holopress were about to have a field day. Jedi Grandfather voted Sexiest Man in the Galaxy._

"Well this is unexpected," Leia said dryly, opening up the door.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Padmé enthused, gently kissing her on the cheek and shooting Anakin another senatorial glare as she deposited her shoes at the front and made her way inside. "I hope our visit isn't too _inconvenient_."

Anakin took a moment to assess Leia's appearance. He recalled the image of her first day at the Jedi Temple, her hair in a beautiful, long braid and her eyes wide with excitement and hope. She had looked similar to Padmé then. He looked at her now, her face crinkled with irritation and her flowing locks in the least intricate style she could pass off as done. He smirked, knowing full well that as she aged, he was definitely beginning to see traces of that Skywalker charm.

His eyes then drifted to her stomach. He frowned.

"You don't look fat," he blurted out, eyeing her up, wondering if she would be small like Padmé or huge like Sola had been.

Leia narrowed her eyes and Anakin suddenly felt fear for any politician who dared cross Leia Solo. He then remembered that he had just committed a cardinal sin.

Jedi rules he could normally remember in the direst of circumstances, be calm and the related nonsense. However, oddly enough, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master Extreme, simply panicked sometimes.

"Anakin!" Padmé reprimanded from inside as Anakin continued to search for signs of another life inside his only daughter.

"Nothing!" he exclaimed, meeting her eyes, subtly looking for fuller cheeks or even a hint of a Force signature.

"Have you finally gone mad?" Leia demanded as she pointed to his shoes as he walked through the door to Han and Leia's posh apartment. Anakin kicked them on in a huff and focused all his energy on his daughter again.

Leia shot her mother a quizzical look as Padmé tried to hide her smile.

"Is this some sort of ageing disease symptom?" she asked, sidestepping Anakin's intrusive staring.

Once again, Anakin found nothing. Leia was not only a trained Jedi but a skilled politician but Anakin was the Chosen One. There was a very small chance that he wouldn't detect the child of Leia if he or she existed.

Anakin breathed a sigh of relief just as Han walked into the front parlour.

"You're not pregnant!" Anakin exclaimed happily.

Padmé looked crestfallen.

Han looked mortified.

Leia looked angry and then confused.

"Excuse me?" she thundered, harnessing her Skywalker temper. "You barge in here, unannounced, comment on my weight, and then throw a comment like that out?"

"Woah, pregnant?" Han interrupted.

"No, Han," Leia reassured him.

"Are you sure?" Padmé asked, her motherly instincts taking over.

"I'm positive," Leia stressed.

All eyes turned to Anakin.

_Anakin Skywalker's Guide to the Galaxy_

_A Jedi should always speak his mind when trouble arises. However, a Jedi should always consider the repercussions of speaking out of turn. A Jedi should know when to speak, when to be silent, when to speak the truth, and when to commit lies by omission. Creating false pregnancies should be avoided at all costs. _

Anakin was puzzled. He was powerful. More powerful than anyone or anything in the entire galaxy. As his family gawked at him, likely assuming his speedy descent into Tatoooine Dimentia, he thought back on the evidence. He had received the transmission. Now, it was possible that the information could have been sent accidentally but it was quite a specific frequency, known only to family members.

He had definitely felt something at the ball last night. It was a flicker and even though Anakin had nearly missed it, it was as clear as day. The only way Anakin would have felt that was if the child had been family. And then, the Force signature simply disappeared as if it were being concealed.

Only an actively trained or training Jedi could do that.

_Dad?_

Anakin ignored Leia's internal questioning and everyone's staring as the reality of the situation came crashing down.

"My stars..." he said, wide-eyed as he looked back.

"Anakin?" Padmé implored, suddenly becoming concerned.

"Not pregnant!" Han muttered, sitting on the plush, thick lounge.

His next course of action, was as clear as day.

"Element of surprise!" he shouted and in a flash, he was gone.


	7. A Can of Spaceworms

**A/N: **It would seem that I've developed a facination with the Anakin and Mara Master/Padawan relationship. **  
**

**Chapter Seven: A Can of Spaceworms**

For the second time today, Anakin behaved like a rogue gundark in the cockpit of his speeder. His very capable mind was racing with his new-found information.

He activated his comm.

"Anakin?" came Obi-Wan's voice over the in-built commlink. "Is everything alright?"

Anakin knew that he had probably disturbed his former Master's beauty sleep but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Fine, Obi-Wan. Is Luke at the temple?" he asked.

Obi-Wan sighed loudly over the commlink. "And why could you have not called upon the fruit of your loins at this forsaken hour?"

_Smooth. _

"I am in no mood for jokes, Master," Anakin snapped.

"You catch more Tatooine buzzflies with sweet nectar, Anakin, than with..."

"YES, thank you Master. Is Luke...?"

Obi-Wan chuckled and Anakin felt like a twelve year old padawan all over again. "He is planet-side, Anakin, but not currently at the Temple."

That solved one problem.

"Is my padawan there?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan started sternly. "I have had just about enough with your lazy enquiries. I am not a secretary reporting on the whereabouts of your son _or _your padawan. You are the Chosen One. _Be more resourceful_," he advised and promptly cut off the connection.

He closed his eyes, reigned in his growing irritation and sped up to reach his destination.

The Jedi temple.

o0o

"Master Skywalker!" cried the younglings as Anakin stalked into the temple's lightsaber training room.

"Hello," he greeted, unable to bring himself to be rude to his adoring fans.

"Master Skywalker," greeted Mace Windu as he narrowed his eyes in greeting.

Anakin bowed gracefully. All his time living with Padmé had made him slightly disconnected from the Jedi world. He had never truly left. However, he had the option of returning to his wife's warm bed at the end of the day and he took it. Mace Windu's annoyed face confirmed that most of the Jedi still lived in a pro-abstinence world.

Anakin shuddered at the thought and then reminded himself just _why_ he was there.

"I assume there is a good reason you have disrupted our training session?"

Anakin looked at the very thankful younglings.

He thought back to his own children, sitting in their Jedi robes, listening sitting cross-legged with their eyes closed.

"I was looking for my padawan," Anakin confessed as he felt the Jedi Master's disapproval run over him.

"I trust you believe me when I say, she's not here," Mace advised and promptly ignored Anakin.

"Have you seen her?" Anakin continued, blatantly ignoring Mace's attempt at ignoring him. One didn't simply ignore the Chosen One after all.

_Except for Mara Jade._

"Master Skywalker," a small voice piped up.

Anakin looked down at the small boy. His helmet was a little too big for him and it nearly slipped right off his head. Anakin normally would have found this endearing. Today, he felt terrified of _all _the children.

"I thought I saw Master Jade leave in a hurry," he stated. "At least, I'm sure it was her. Her hair was very red and she looked _very_ angry!"

It certainly _sounded_ like his padawan. It was also rather convenient that Anakin had just missed her. The Force seemed hell-bent on sending him on a wild bantha chase.

"The door is that way," Mace pointed. "Perhaps you should put a bell on her," he added and Anakin wasn't quite sure whether he was joking or not.

"May the Force be with you," Anakin called back as he exited as quickly as he had entered.

o0o

Anakin stood at the front of the apartment. It occurred to him that he hadn't actually ever visited Mara at home. He was usually quite busy with the family or with training his apprentice at the Temple. Mara's apartment did not have a spaceport and it was closer to the lower levels than the Skywalkers' apartment.

Anakin could feel that Mara was inside. He had finally cornered her. It occurred to him that the last time they had talked had been yesterday, during her training session. His greatest issue with her _then_ was that she was rather close to her trials. He had developed an affection for his padawan and knowing that she made Luke happy made him even happier.

Anakin pushed the thought of Luke out of his mind for the time being.

Anakin could tell that Mara knew he was here. He also knew that she was attempting to ignore him. Anakin couldn't tolerate being ignored twice in one day so he did the Masterly thing and banged heavily on the door with his prosthetic hand.

"I know you're in there, Jade."

"Want a medal? I hear the Republic is just giving them away to washed up heroes," came the snarky reply through the door.

Anakin sighed. He had tolerated this type of behaviour from both Luke and Leia as teenagers. It had been unpleasant then and it was downright annoying now.

"Open the door, Mara."

He heard the sound of boots shuffling and the door finally swung open. And now that Anakin knew and Mara wasn't shielding so heavily, it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Anakin proudly pointed his finger at Mara.

"YOU are PREGNANT!"

A loud voice sounded from the apartment next to Mara's.

"Oi, wanna keep it down out there?"

"SHUT UP!" came another voice from down the hall.

"Get in here!" Mara seethed as she grabbed Anakin and pulled him into her apartment. Anakin stared at her as she slammed the door. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Don't you mean 'have you completely lost your mind _Master'_?" Anakin huffed. "A Jedi must respect their Masters above all else!"

Mara stared at him incredulously. "Really? The Jedi Code? Now?"

Anakin refused to break eye contact. "Let's try this again. Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Mara?"

Mara smirked. "No."

Anakin suddenly thought back to when Luke and Leia had accidentally set Threepio on fire and refused to confess. He then thought about the fact that Mara was now pregnant and he was going to be a grandfather. He was going to be grandfather to a child of _Luke_ and _Mara_.

Anakin was suddenly very tired.

"Care to explain why I had a mysterious remote diagnosis sent to my medical droid then?"

Mara's amused demeanour dropped and Anakin would have laughed had he not been so stunned by the _interesting _news.

"That wasn't supposed to go to you," Mara pointed out as she walked through to the tiny kitchen.

"Well it did!"

"And here you are, my Master."

Anakin could see that his attitude was not helping the issue. So he put away his sarcastic Jedi Master thoughts and reverted back to his concerned parent demeanour.

"Are you alright?"

Mara grabbed two cups of blue milk and placed them on the small table. She gestured for Anakin to sit. Anakin cautiously took the cup and sat on the single chair.

"I'm fine. Apart from the shock, of course."

It finally occurred to Anakin that perhaps nobody had ever given Mara the talk about sex. He and Padmé had sat the twins down at a very early age and thoroughly embarrassed the poodoo out of their children. He distinctly remembered Luke blushing throughout the entire talk. Perhaps it hadn't been Mara who had needed the talk.

Only two standard hours ago, Anakin had been faced with the thought of becoming a grandfather to Solo children. It seemed surreal but here he was, still going to be a grandfather to Luke's baby.

"Did you know it was me?" Mara asked.

"I felt something at the gala," Anakin admitted. "And after the med droid blurted out the happy news."

"So you came straight over here?"

Anakin paused.

_The Force will guide you to the right answer, always. Unless it doesn't._

"Not exactly. Padmé and I were under the impression that Leia had sent the message."

To Mara's credit, she didn't burst out laughing. Anakin averted his eyes and stared at the interesting magnet on Mara's refrigeration unit.

"Are you going to tell the Council?" Mara asked.

Anakin tore his eyes away from the lightsaber magnet and looked at Mara. "Are you planning on finishing your training?"

Mara remained quiet and Anakin thought he had finally discovered the way to shut Mara Jade up. It was bliss.

His moment was ruined when another thought struck him.

"Mara, does Luke even know?" Anakin demanded. The same type of panicked feeling he had experienced earlier at Han and Leia's resurfaced.

Mara stared at him for a moment before opening her mouth. "No," she declared, standing up. "And you are _not_ going to tell him!"


	8. Pregnancy Blues

**Chapter Eight: Pregnancy Blues **

Anakin stared at Mara. A Rancor wearing a set of polka dot Jedi robes doing the traditional Nubian festival dance would have made more sense than his Padawan right now. Mara was pregnant. Expecting.

_With child._

And that child was his grandchild and she had the audacity to tell him not to tell Luke that he was going to be a father. Insane.

"You're insane," he blurted out, somewhat aware that his brain-to-mouth filter certainly wasn't working today.

She raised her eyebrow and looked at him quizzically. "Excuse me?"

Anakin stood and systematically began to pace. "You won't be able to hide it for very long you know," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Really? You think so?"

"It was completely irresponsible of you to get pregnant in the first place!" he continued.

"Completely and utterly," Mara agreed.

"You're both so young!"

"Practically teenagers," Mara snarked and Anakin finally caught on that his pregnant, foul-tempered padawan was actually making fun of him.

"Pregnant!" Anakin exclaimed again.

"The old fashioned way too."

"Hold on a parsec—why is it that you want to hide this from Luke? And the Council for that matter?" Anakin asked, ignoring Mara's previous statement.

Mara sighed and Anakin felt a sliver of guilt for acting like what she would probably deem a complete kriffing lunatic.

"I need to get the timing of this right," she confessed. Anakin had seen Mara grumble and swear and more often than not, he wondered why she even wanted to be a Jedi. But, despite all of his misgivings, she was turning out to be a studious and capable student.

In short, she was going to be a wonderful Jedi.

But what about a mother?

Fatherhood had scared the shavit out of him and he had nearly dropped Luke on his big head when Padmé had handed him over for the first time. And the crying.

The crying.

The CRYING.

Both Luke and Leia had cried nonstop for the first four months of their lives. They had set each other off and due to the unsteady emotional climate in the air at the time, their Force sensitivity had caused them distress.

Would Luke's child be as difficult?

"Luke and Leia both cried for months," he pointed out, realising his comment probably wasn't a good reply.

Mara scowled. "Thanks for the encouragement."

He really wasn't coping very well with this. He cleared his throat.

_Courage. _

"Does this have something to do with why you stormed out of the Temple in a huff?"

Mara nodded. "The Council is sending me on a solo mission."

This was the first he had heard of it but he refused to show his confusion to his already cranky padawan. It was strange that the Council hadn't bothered consulting him on the matter. Perhaps they thought he was losing his touch.

He thought back to his actions since this morning. Perhaps they're right.

"You," he stated. "You are going on a solo mission?"

"Yep."

"Without me."

"That's generally what solo means."

Anakin cast the thought of his cocky son-in-law from his mind, desperately thankful that he wasn't having a similar conversation at the Solo residence.

"But—you're pregnant!"

Mara's face turned red and her green eyes began to storm. He felt Mara's annoyance with him double and that was certainly saying something.

"So because I happen to be pregnant, I must be completely incapable of performing my duties as a Jedi?"

_Stang._

"No, that's not..."

"Or because I'm pregnant, I need constant supervision from a man?"

_Shavit._

"Mara, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

Now, Mara stood and towered over him.

"Or possibly, you don't think I'm ready to be a Jedi in the same way you don't think I'm ready to be a mother?"

_Kriff._

"I never said that!" Anakin protested, shrinking back into the chair. He was a kriffing Jedi Master and he was shrinking back like a wounded gundark.

But he had certainly learned his lesson when his wife was pregnant. He would NOT be making that mistake with Mara Jade. He suddenly felt very sorry for his son.

"You thought it!" Mara snapped back. "Is it so wrong that I'd like to make Jedi Knight before baby Skywalker comes along?"

Anakin listened to the Force when it told him to shut his big, Jedi mouth. He took a moment and let Mara calm down. She was right. She was nearly ready. And he was positive that as soon as she came away with a successful solo mission under her belt, the Council would recommend her for the trials. When she was visibly more subdued, he finally stood and placed two hands on her shoulders.

"I'll help you," he said. "But you need to promise me that as soon as the mission is over and you're back, you will have to tell Luke."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Obviously. I think he might get suspicious when I turn up looking like I've smuggled a bantha under my tunic."

And out of nowhere, a huge surge of pride crashed into Anakin. He looked at his padawan and wondered where the time had gone. She had walked into his life and helped his children rescue him from a jail cell in K'Larna only two short years ago. She was still so young—only twenty three standard years old.

And she was about to become a Jedi, get married and deliver a child within the space of nine months.

"So, when do you think you and Luke will be getting married? Padmé is going to have a field day planning the wedding."

Mara smirked. "Who said anything about getting married?"

Anakin was confused. "But you're pregnant. Surely you realise Luke is going to propose after he finds out?"

Anakin would have his hide if he didn't, after all. He didn't raise a scoundrel. He would expect Han Solo to leave a lady to her fate but never, ever Luke Skywalker.

"And what makes you think I _want_ to get married, Master?"

Just as Anakin was considering how in Kessel he would respond to that piece of lunacy, Luke's distinct Force signature appeared.

Mara's eyes widened, her own senses picking him up. "Remember—this is a secret. You don't tell Luke or Padmé or Leia or Solo or Kenobi. And help me shield, will you? He won't suspect anything."

Anakin was still on the thought of telling Solo anything, let alone the galaxy's greatest secret, when Luke opened the door. He used his quick Jedi reflexes and enveloped Mara in the strongest shield he could produce. Just as the shield went around her, he revelled in the moment, touching his unborn grandchild. The shield would last a while after he left.

Mara rolled her eyes at his clearly emotional moment and went to greet Luke. Luke gave her a chaste kiss and then stared at his father.

"What are you doing here? Leia commed me and said you had 'gone off your rocker'."

"He was just leaving," Mara advised and smiled at him sweetly. "Thank you for everything, Master. I am sure my mission will be a complete success."

Anakin sighed, wishing he had the strength of character to ignore his padawan and blab her secret to his only son. Instead, he prayed to the Force that her stupid decision wouldn't become _their_ stupid decision.

"Comm me before you leave," Anakin said to Mara and tousled Luke's hair. "I don't know how you do it, son. Take care of her."

And with the final stare at both of them, he exited Mara's apartment and faced the world knowing that in a matter of months, he was going to be a grandfather.

_Grandfather_

_Traditionally, many men become grandfathers at the age of fifty and above. Grandfathers are considered to be old and wise. A grandfather has never, ever won the Coruscant Sexiest Man award to date and will probably never, ever do so. What is worse is that to be a grandfather, you must accept that no matter how old your children are, they are probably having the same kind of sex that brought them along in the first place. _


	9. My Big, Fat Secret

**A/N: **I know it can be a while between updates but please be assured, none of my stories are abandoned. Another huge thank you to my beta, Toni here on FFN, who is my editor/cheerleader/fantastic email friend.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: My Big, Fat Secret**

Anakin took the long way home. He had left his comm off and taken the scenic route to the Jedi Temple. He checked in with Yoda, Mace Windu, Shaak Ti, Obi-Wan and even went to visit his new friend Cilghal in the Halls of Healing.

Finally, when the patients in the Halls of Healing had tired of his latest story about how he named his lightsaber, Cilghal had finally kicked him out. Obi-Wan refused to answer his comm and he hadn't heard anything from either Mara or Luke.

It was definitely time to go home.

Anakin thought about inventing an excuse to stay at the Temple. He then thought about what his wife of over twenty-five years would think about that. It wasn't the first time he had tried this. It hadn't been pleasant last time. He took a deep breath. Anakin was a man and he would behave as such. He was a Jedi Master for Sith's sake, and here he was frightened to go home to his wife.

Who had been a politician since she was a young girl. Who denied being curious but was the first one to watch the sludge news when it came to the stupid Kmarlashian sisters from Zoid and what they were covering their tentacles with this week. She found out everything.

Anakin recalled an incident in which he had taken Luke out of his Jedi training camp on Hoth to take him to the opening of a water-based theme park on Kamino. It had taken Padmè about three standard hours to get it out of him and she was all the way on Coruscant. This time, he was hiding the fact that she was going to be a grandmother!

He was suddenly very irritated with Mara-how dare she turn him into a secret smuggler! Didn't she realise how difficult this would be? Not for the first time, Anakin thought about his poor Master. He had managed to keep a secret from him well enough, hadn't he? It was the same. Completely the same, he rationalised. He called on the Force to help him.

As if on cue, his comm buzzed. He ignored it. It was Padmè. He stared at his speeder.

"No time like the present," he announced to nobody in particular. The various occupants of the Temple were well accustomed to his strange outbursts. Many of the Younglings thought of him as Weird Old Skywalker. Younglings. Luke's Youngling. He shook his head.

As he sat in the speeder, his comm buzzed again. He was a Jedi and he could do this. He touched Stevie to give him some support. In good traffic, he would be home in about twenty standard minutes. He could ignore her insistent comming for twenty minutes, surely?

It cut out. Anakin smiled triumphantly, feeling as if he won a fight that his wife didn't know they were having. He pulled out of the Jedi docking station. As he took a familiar turn in the air, the sound of his wife pierced his ears.

"Anakin!"

"Kriff!" he swore as he narrowly avoided a Kremlonian in a yellow speeder. He looked at the centre panel in disbelief- there was his beautiful wife in all her glory. On the dashboard of his speeder.

"How did you-?"

She glared. "You left the override code on the Holo," she stated. Anakin distinctly recalled the override code being locked in a secure folder on his Holo connection.

_Sneaky_

_A Jedi should always be prepared to be deceptive, however, one cannot be sneaky when one's wife guesses the password to be stevie52._

Her eyes softened. "Where have you been? Leia and I have been so worried. She nearly sent Han after you. He thought you were having some kind of seizure!"

Of course he did. "I'm fine," he assured her. "I'm on my way back home now."

The image of Padmè leant in. "I know you're younger than me, Anakin, but I'm sure the Jedi Healers wouldn't mind taking a look at you. Han said that seizures are a common symptom of early onset old man's disease."

Anakin felt his body relax. If he was concentrating on being annoyed with Han, he could push the information about LukeandMara'sbabywhichI'mnotsupposedtoknowabout out of his already filled brain. He frowned.

"Early onset old man's disease?" he asked, afraid to know the answer. She smirked.

"Tattooine Dementia." She paused. "Do Jedi suffer old man's disease? I mean Master Yoda-"

"I bet you wouldn't look as good when you're 800," Anakin snapped. He looked at his wife's image. She looked stunned.

"Excuse me?"

He swerved the speeder, nearly missing his exit. "Look, I don't have time to talk. I'll be home soon. You're distracting me."

Padmè glared at him. "I see. Well, I look forward to distracting you further when you get home. Goodbye, Anakin."

Somehow, he knew she didn't mean the kind of distraction that left them both exhausted and his prosthetic charging in the corner bay. He was in for a long evening.

o0o

Much to Anakin's chagrin, Padmè had taken it upon herself to invite half the galaxy over for dinner. The guest list included his children and respective partners, Obi-Wan and Chewbacca, Han's long-time friend and partner.

He had explained to Padmè that he'd rushed off to confront Mara about her upcoming solo mission and he was understandably concerned about the whole matter. She had listened to his grovelling and apology. Clearly, she had decided to exact revenge on him anyway by throwing the informal dinner in honour of Mara's departure.

She had also reminded him that he owed their daughter a rather large apology. So right now, Anakin found himself staring at his fancy Jedi boots as his son-in-law sat smugly at the table, across from him. Leia looked at him from across the table too. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Alright barely covered it. One of his babies was married and the other was about to become a father. "If you mean, am I suffering from the Tattooine Dementia? No, I am certainly not. I'm not that old!"

Or that stupid.

Han snorted. Anakin glared. Padmè coughed.

"Alright," Leia said, still clearly not sure. "What made you think that I was preg-?"

The doorbell rang. Anakin jumped to his feet. "I'll get it!"

Padmè walked past, gently pushing him back down. "Threepio will get it," she said firmly, placing a plate in front of him.

"You seem really on edge, Paps," Han said. "Even more than usual."

Han was certainly a bright spot in his day. Anakin briefly wondered why he bothered being sarcastic in his own head when the rest of the dining party, led by Threepio, walked into the dining room.

"May I present to you-"

"We know, Goldenrod," Han said. Anakin couldn't help smirking as his droid looked flustered and embarrassed.

"By the Maker!" Threepio moaned as Luke gave everyone a friendly wave. "Master Anakin, I would appreciate it if you would command Master Solo not to speak to me like that again!"

"Calm down Stiff Pants," Han reiterated. "You know me- I'm just joking!"

Threepio walked off, still grumbling. "And as if you could command me," Han added from across the table. Anakin tried to avoid looking at either Mara or Luke as they took their seats.

Chewie roared as Padmè kissed him on the cheek. "You're most welcome!"

Oddly enough, Anakin liked Chewie. He just didn't approve in his taste in friends. He turned to Obi-Wan, who had taken his usual seat next to Anakin.

"So Chewie, how's the _Kyybryyk_ going?"

Chewie growled in response. "Helluva ship," Han agreed.

"Dad, are you alright? You look red," Luke said, clearly trying to help. Next to him, Obi-Wan took a drink of the expensive ale Padmè had set out. He looked like seafood. "Yes, you do look red," Obi-Wan agreed.

Red. Mara. Mara's tiny, red baby. He looked at his padawan. She was shielding quite well this evening. He was proud, in a completely mortified sort of way. She shook her head.

"He was about to apologise to Leia for his rude behaviour this morning," Padmè added, finally sitting. "Weren't you?"

All eyes were on him. "This is why we came, after all!" Han said.

He looked at his daughter. "Leia, I am very sorry."

Leia looked pleased. Too often it was her apologising to him. "Apology accepted, Dad. Now, you were just going to say, what made you think I was pregnant?"

Luke spat out the blue milk he was drinking. "You're what?"

Anakin really didn't want to be talking about this. _No, no and more no. _Mara wiped the remnants of the blue milk off her tunic. _Shut your mouth_, her voice echoed in his head.

_I'm the Master here_, Anakin sent back. _And maybe if you shut yours once in a while..._

"I really need to change this outfit," Leia whined. "Luke, I'm not pregnant. And you're disgusting."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "Your manners must be hereditary."

Padmè sighed. "We got an encrypted transmission last night through our old med droid. After Anakin assumed it was me-"

He cringed.

"We both assumed it was Leia. Erroneously."

Luke frowned. "And you have no idea who sent the transmission?"

Padmè shrugged. "Perhaps someone had the wrong code. It happens."

"A total mystery. Leia, could you pass the flatbread?" Mara asked.

_Change the subject!_

Anakin cleared his throat. "So, Mara, are you excited about your mission?"

Everyone turned to Mara to see her response. She spent a full second indulging in glaring at Anakin and he was fairly certain plotting his untimely demise. Luckily, she was still shielding.

Leia passed the flatbread. "Yes, Mara! You must be excited."

"I had no idea the Council had asked you to go on your first solo mission. Anakin, why didn't you tell me?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin shrugged, his mouth full of food.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Luke asked, pouring sauce all over his bantha steak. Anakin frowned.

_You're ruining your food_, he sent to his son.

As usual, Luke ignored his sound advice. Mara turned to face Luke.

"What are you insinuating, Skywalker? That I'm somehow incapable of running a mission on my own?"

Red alerts went up through the Force.

_ABORT. ABORT._

Anakin knew Luke didn't mean it that way. He never did. But Mara, training Jedi or not, was a force to be reckoned with. And in a matter of months, she'd be a Jedi Knight and the size of a rancor with an attitude to match.

And Luke didn't even know.

His face fell. "I just meant, because you've been training! I- Dad?"

He wasn't going to fall for this one.

_Good luck_, he enthused through the Force. _You're going to need it._

Luke turned away from Mara. _What is that supposed to mean?_

Change the subject, Leia commanded. Padmè looked mortified, Leia looked sympathetic, Chewbacca was looking at his food, Obi-Wan was looking into his third glass of ale and Han looked as if he was going to wet his pants.

He cleared his throat. All his years as a stealthy Jedi Master had prepared him for this moment. He needed to change the subject and fast. Distraction and misdirection. He looked at his son-in-law again.

"Han? Would you mind helping me take a look at the med droid? We might be able to trace the transmission!"

Chewie roared his approval and Padmè's eyes lit up. "Oh Anakin, could you?"

Of course he could. He was Anakin Skywalker.

Han looked confused. "Eh, sure Paps. I've got my kit in the speeder. Chewie?" The Wookiee confirmed through a series of soft growls.

"Well that's settled then," Leia said smugly. "Master Kenobi, could you please pass the protato salad?"

Obi-Wan obliged and everyone started eating. Anakin felt very impressed with himself. Until he saw Mara. Her face matched her hair. He then looked at Luke.

_Thanks Dad,_ he beamed.

I_'m going to program every alarm in this house to beep every hour until your ears bleed_, Mara shot him._ And disable Threepio's filter._ Her eyes narrowed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

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